erable difficulty we gained what we thought was our cave,
only to find that it was not, and then we realized that we were lost in
the labyrinthine mazes of the great cavern. We retraced our steps and
sought the point from which we had started, but only succeeded in
losing ourselves the more. Ajor was aghast--not so much from fear of
our predicament; but that she should have failed in the functioning of
that wonderful sense she possessed in common with most other creatures
Caspakian, which makes it possible for them to move unerringly from
place to place without compass or guide.

Hand in hand we crept along, searching for an opening into the outer
world, yet realizing that at each step we might be burrowing more
deeply into the heart of the great cliff, or circling futilely in the
vague wandering that could end only in death. And the darkness! It
was almost palpable, and utterly depressing. I had matches, and in
some of the more difficult places I struck one; but we couldn't afford
to waste them, and so we groped our way slowly along, doing the best we
could to keep to one general direction in the hope that it would
eventually lead us to an opening into the outer world. When I struck
matches, I noticed that the walls bore no paintings; nor was there
other sign that man had penetrated this far within the cliff, nor any
spoor of animals of other kinds.

It would be difficult to guess at the time we spent wandering through
those black corridors, climbing steep ascents, feeling our way along
the edges of bottomless pits, never knowing at what moment we might be
plunged into some abyss and always haunted by the ever-present terror
of death by starvation and thirst. As difficult as it was, I still
realized that it might have been infinitely worse had I had another
companion than Ajor--courageous, uncomplaining, loyal little Ajor! She
was tired and hungry and thirsty, and she must have been discouraged;
but she never faltered in her cheerfulness. I asked her if she was
afraid, and she replied that here the Wieroo could not get her, and
that if she died of hunger, she would at least die with me and she was
quite content that such should be her end. At the time I attributed
her attitude to something akin to a doglike devotion to a new master
who had been kind to her. I can take oath to the fact that I did not
think it was anything more.

Whether we had been imprisoned in the cliff for a day or a week I could
not sa